Spare Keys
by Ritaann
Summary: Ossel hated to go unnoticed... HC .. orginal character written for the 4th HC ficathon...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Spare Key, part 1/4

Author: Ritaann

Rating: M

Beta: Lynettinspaghet

Pairing: House/Cameron, original character

Genre: Thriller/horror (I hope)

Summary: Meet Ossel Olin, whose hobbies include photography, wig making and an obsession with females whose dark brown hair strikes his fancy…

Notes1: What started out as a thought evoked by the idea of having to include a cadaver somewhere in this fic has become something blown way out of original intentions of a one, possible two parter into a mini series. Huh. I can't guarantee any hard core scares within this fic, but I do aim to, if not shock perhaps disgust the reader (not with my writing …or at least I hope not :o … ) and yes, the ledgends were inspired by watching one too many x files episodes, although I'm not 100 sure if I did them in the same manner (from she who wishes she could check right now but won't be home for a few weeks to do so).

Notes: This is a fanfic written for SarahKjrsten at the 4th House/Cameron ficathon. She requested:

1. I would like to see a cadaver

2. I would like to see an interesting medical abnormality

3. I would like to see Lena Olin

Three things she didn't want anywhere near her story:

1. Cadaver!smut

2. Pickles

3. A saline drip

Part One

17:00  
1st OF MARCH  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL  
FIRST FLOOR CLINIC

In the shadows he stands, the light of day quickly fading as the clinic closes at the end of another Friday evening.

From behind the palm fronds a bowler cap peaks, steel grey eyes rake over a figure clad in a white coat, standing at the nurses station doing paperwork, her left hand massaging at an over-worked muscle in her neck

Carefully, so as not to disturb his dark leafy hiding spot, a calloused, working hand of nails filled with ingrained dirt digs at his neck as he follows her movements, rolling his shoulders as she did. He feels a twinge from below and a lazy smile contorts as he braces himself against the thick concrete pole at his back, one eye trained on the delectable Dr. Cameron's back.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end and Cameron couldn't help but feel a little unnerved at by the sudden lack of people who were down on the first floor. Despite being past closing time, nurses and doctors usually stayed at least an extra hour preparing for the next day and making sure all that needed to be in order from the past day's work was as it should be.

Out of the corner of her eye Cameron scanned all that she could without moving her head. Not finding the cause of her unrest, she put her pen down on the chart she had been working on and quickly whipped around.

"Shit," he whispered. Stilling his hand he crouched further still behind the imitation shrub and hoped that his choice of clothing earlier that morning would help his cause.

"Hey Cameron!" called Foreman, as he walked out of the elevator and she whipped around, one hand on her chest as she fought to control her breathing.

"Damnit Foreman! Couldn't you give a girl a little more warning?" she snapped.

"Hey I'm sorry," he replied, hands raised in the air in surrender. "Why are you so jumpy? One too many pinches on the bottom?"

Cameron rolled her eyes, "I don't know what the fascination is, but no, that isn't the problem. It's just a little creepy being down here when barely anyone is around."

Foreman nodded, "That and your need to relax is why I've come to see if you'd like to join Chase and I for drinks tonight- I though we'd check out that new bar downtown, the Hairy Boar- it's on the corner between sixth and seventh street? I've heard its good."

"Sure," Cameron replied, placing her completed chart back on the rack and the pen back into her pocket, "I'll see you guys there at seven."

Walking to the elevators, she couldn't help but glance behind at the waiting area. Seeing nothing out of place, she scolded herself for watching one too many late night horror movies.

xXx

16:00  
FIFTH FLOOR LABORATORY, PPTH

She had been working in the lab all day. Seeing as the diagnostic department was devoid of patients and she was sick of sitting around and twiddling her thumbs, unlike Chase who was perfectly happy not having patients. Foreman had gone to the neurology department in a huff that his credentials were not being put to good use.

He was there again, staring at her through the glass walls of the fifth floor lab, waiting until she noticed his presence before ambling in through the door, coming to a stop in the middle of the room, leaving barely two-inches between them.

Turning away from the microscope to face him, she was waiting patiently as he eyed his surroundings, taping his cane on the linoleum, licking his lips as he prepared his next words.

"Cameron," he stated gently, allowing her name to linger in the air between them.

"Yes, House?" she asks.

He paused for a moment, "Have you seen Foreman around? I haven't seen him all day."

"He's up in neurology."

"Right, of course," he chuckled nervously before moving back and taking a three- legged step towards the door.

"Why do you always do that to me?" This time Cameron took a step towards House, whose frame seemed to lean towards the door in an awkward fashion.

"Do what?"

"Don't try to pull one on me, you know what I'm talking about." crossing her arms in front of her in a defensive posture.

"I do it because of that thing you decided to wear today, taking a page from Cuddy's book I see." House swiftly pointed his cane in subtle gesture towards the tan coloured skirt she had chosen to wear to work that day.

"It's knee length!" her voice raising in both pitch and tone in defence of her attire.

House secretly admired the facial expression of a pissed off Allison Cameron.

"Uhuh, and your point?" House taking another step towards the door, as though ready to flee the scene at the first sign of confrontation of a personal kind.

"You lied to me."

"I most certainly did not- a thing like that would make any man wonder what else you have hidden up there."

"Not about the skirt- you didn't come up here to look for Foreman."

House cleared his throat uncomfortably, "No, I didn't." he stated simply.

An uncomfortable silence sat between the two of them as Cameron waited for House to explain his last words, her hands moving to her hips.

"When… are you busy Friday night?" he asked simply, waiting for confusion then elation to set in. He only received the former.

"What?"

"There's a jazz thing I got tickets to in Atlantic city, and since Wilson will be busy being somebody else's bitch…"

"Oh," she said, pausing to digest the current turn of events, "Is this another one of your non-dates?"

"I suppose you could look at it that way, especially after the real date sucked." They both smiled at the truth of his words.

"Sure, okay." She nodded nonchalantly, doing her best not to grin and give away her excitement.

"I'll be around your place to pick you up at 7, show starts at 8." With that House limped out of the lab and headed down the hallway, Cameron staring after him, a small grin on her face and the phrase 'don't get your hopes up' running through her mind like a broken recorder.

xXx

18:00  
1ST OF JANURARY  
MOSSEL WIGGERY  
16 PAINVIEW ROAD, PRINCETON

He watched as she arrived home, safe in his hideout across the street.

She lived as he did, alone in a one bedroom apartment. His was on the first level, hers the one above. With no more than a street apart, a telescope and long lens camera were all he needed to set up his game plan.

He waited as she got out of her car, knowing she would have her laptop slung over her left shoulder, keys in her right hand as she rode the elevator to her sanctuary and entered with the turn of a wrist.

Adjusting the lens to account for differences in distance, a grin had overtaken his face as he watched as she went about her afternoon routine.

She was as fond as he was of rituals and he enjoyed studying her even more due to her repetitive nature. Taking a couple of quick snaps with the camera, the sound of exposure overtaking the silence that permeated his lair, his breathing increasing in intensity, coming out on harsh burst as he watched her break routine and choose snug fitting jeans and top in preparation for her evening out.

"No," he whispered, but kept his eyes peeled until the moment she left her room for another section of the house.

Turning away from the telescope, the sound of metal wheels scraping against its confines, in need of oil seared through the chilly sir of the room and he immediately felt a little better, looking up at a wall to his left, painted what he knew to be her favourite shade of purple, covered from ceiling to floor with pictures of his latest obsession.

All were pictures of her from her side as she turned, or of her at an angle, none were of her staring directly into the lens. Too dangerous, he muttered to himself, but it was the one shot he longed to gain, the one shot that would mean she trusted him, that it was time.

Time that she be aware of his true purpose.

Half the pictures had been taken in the hospital where she worked, and many of them contained none other than her boss, Doctor Gregory House. He too was also never looking directly at the camera lens, and for this he was grateful. His sharp blue eyes saw all and this, he knew, was not a good thing.

Ossel Olin thought back to the first time he had met Allison. He loved that he could call her Allison, even if it was only in his own mind. No one called her that. Cameron this- and Cameron that- it made him feel supremely connected with her, as did the small ball of her hair which was always kept in his left pocket, where his left wrist, and major vessel leading to his heart stayed constantly in further connection with her.

It had been in the woman's locker room at Princeton Plainsboro. He had to go to the third floor for some x rays to be run and had taken a wrong turn, and with an unwieldy gurney being pushed by some overly eager orderlies, Ossel found himself behind a head of beautiful chocolate brown hair which smelt distinctly like his sister's.

"Lena-" he had begun to whisper, the cramped space in the elevator filled with both people and gurney and Ossel hoped that his sister would not make a scene.

Yet she hadn't turned around. He sniffed the air in one large gulp. No, there was no mistake, it was the exact same brand of floral shampoo that his sister had been using since her teenage years.

Looking around the elevator, he realised that not one of the people who were in it were connected to the person in front of him. His sister's fame and fortune on television shows such as Alias made it virtually impossible for her to travel light, as he'd noticed at the few family gatherings she had attended last year. Not one tall muscularly suited guy with dark glasses or some overly fashionable stylist nor a dorky looking columnist.

It was then that he knew that this person in front of him would be his next and newest obsession.

The elevator doors then opened and she stepped out, turning to whom Ossel now knew as Greg House. She spoke and Ossel knew for sure it was not his sister.

"I'll let you know when I get those results."

She responded by nodding in reply, "You know where I'll be."

Before the doors shut, Ossel jumped out of the elevator in the nick of time and began to nonchalantly trail a little ways behind her purposeful stride. His x-ray now forgotten, he watched as she entered the women's locker room and once the hallway was clear, he snuck in behind her.

xXx

19:00  
THE HAIRY BOAR  
CORNER OF SIXTH AND SEVENTH STREET,  
PRINCETON

"So you and House. What happened to that?" inquired Foreman as he took a sip of his beer. It had been a while since the two of them had gone out for a beer- Chase had pulled out at the last minute, something about a date? Either way, Foreman was glad that he had managed to get Cameron out to a place that was neither home nor work.

"There is no 'me and House'." she replied, shaking her head in disbelief that Foreman would bring up such a sore subject.

"You are a lousy liar, you know that?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." Cameron shook her head and bit back her tongue. She didn't want to jinx Friday in any way possible.

"And I think I owe you another round of beers." At Foreman's suggestion she opened her mouth to protest. "Relax you from the stresses of the day… loosen your lips." He grinned at her feigned expression of shock.

"Oh so that's your plan? Uh uh papa bear I am in lockdown mode." Cameron said as seriously as she could yet still allowing a smile to escape, already a little tipsy.

"Whatever you say," Foreman said agreeably, waving over the bartender to take their order.

xXx

Her hair.

It's what drew him to her in the first place, long and chocolatey brown, silky and curled at the ends. The kind that listened, mostly, to what its owner wanted it to do, the kind that needed monthly trims to keep in shape, the kind that demanded a certain kind of shampoo and conditioner.

The kind that Ossel knew from experience would she'd every month, clogging the drains with clumps of brown string that clung to one's fingertips when wet, as though an invisible free flowing glue stuck it there. The kind of hair that would tangle if a brush was not dragged through it gently from tip to top each morning, filling its bristles with old strands, allowing the scalp to be replaced with the new.

Ossel rubbed a certain kind of oil proudly onto his shiny bald head and had been doing so every day since his fifteenth birthday, in a silent vow to never allow one wisp of hair to grace his body since.

It had been the one thing that made him different and special from his sister, had caused shock and surprise at the dinner table and got him noticed for once.

Ossel hated to go completely unnoticed.

He wrapped his windbreaker tight around his thin, boyish frame and kept one eye trained on the friendly pair that sat at the bar towards the back, the warm lighting and mahogany decked interior was a direct contrast to the cold night and bitter wind, reminding the current population of the winter that had just past.

He hated that others could be chummy with her when all he was at present, was an outsider.

'Now was the time to change all that,' thought Ossel to himself as he settled lower on his bench and peered deeper into the room.

xXx

08:05  
5TH MARCH  
DIAGNOSTIC DEPARTMENT  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL

'She's wearing that skirt again,' was all House could think about when he saw Cameron walk in through the glass doors that morning, the first of his underlings to arrive.

Getting up from his desk he made his way through to the break room and sat down on one of the chairs that surrounded the glass table and threw a pale yellow file onto the table top.

"What's this?" Cameron turned from making the first pot of coffee of the day and coming to stand behind House she flipped the folder open to the first page.

"New patient, seems interesting."

"Shouldn't we be waiting for Foreman and Chase?"

"Oh, you're right- we should just let the poor guy suffer for a few minutes longer to avoid pissing off our fellow colleagues. Glad to see you have your priorities straight."

Cameron rolled her eyes and placed a red mug of coffee in front of House and turned to make her own.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" She threw over her shoulder.

"That envelope on the table- you didn't see it yet?"

Sitting on the glass table top was an inconspicuous looking A4 envelope, unsealed with the name Allison written in a small, neat block letters at its top right hand corner.

Turning around, she froze when she saw it, heart pounding in her ears she couldn't help but feel a chill come over her skin.

House glanced up at her expression, her wide eyes and sickly pallour informing him of the nature of what might be in the envelope.

She stood as still as a rock, and noticing that Cameron seemed to be moving away rather than towards that which was addressed to the only Allison in the office, House moved to pick it up.

"No!" she jumped forward and placed her hand atop his right, "I- I think you should at least use gloves."

"How many of these have you received?" House asked turning towards her.

"This would be the third one. They, they all say the same thing except, except for the last line." House moved around her to the sink and took out a pair of latex gloves and snapping them on before pulling out a chair and making Cameron's rigid frame sit beside him.

Gesturing towards the envelope and at her nod, he slid it towards them and took out the sheet of paper within. House began to read aloud;

_"Hello, Allison"_

the scrawl mocked, written in block letters and ball point pen assuming a personal relationship. The blank white sheet yet impeccably straight lines of print, each letter lacking any trace of the personality behind its meaning.

_"It won't be long now, until we'll both be happy_

_together._

_Our small, humble lives will be reunited with an event not to be missed._

_One that everyone will notice_

_I watch you from afar, with a lust that no man could ever understand. Your silken locks remind me of a time that must be forgotten and re-written into the history books._

_Take Care._

_O."_

Immediately, Cameron pushed her chair back, metal on tile contorting into a sickening screech she leaned against the sink in an effort to move as far away from the offending object as possible.

House could feel the bile rise in his throat as he re-read the last few lines before tossing the letter back onto the table.

The glass door swung open, House and Cameron looked up to see Foreman and Chase entering the room and coming to a stand still beside the table.

"What's up?" asked Foreman, looking down at the paper that House and Cameron had been staring at moments before.

"I think you should call Cuddy." House instructed, "Tell her to bring security up here ASAP."

End Part One


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Spare Key, pt.2/3  
Author: Ritaann  
Characters: House/Cameron  
Rating: M, beware swearing and dead bodies (although the latter was requested)… if you thought pt.1 was scary, then well, this kinda gets worse (although I don't see where the horror is … despite intending it to be a horror/thriller type fic)  
Beta: lj userlynettinspaghet  
Summary: Whilst House and Cameron find friendship and perhaps a little something more, Ossel comes closer to the truth he seeks…  
Notes: written for lj usersarahkrisjen see part one

09:30  
5TH MARCH  
DIAGNOSTIC DEPARTMENT  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL

"Are you sure, Ma'am that you can't remember anything else, or haven't seen anything suspicious?" the police officer asks Cameron for the millionth time.

Wrapping her lab coat tightly around her and glancing into the hallway where Dr. Cuddy and a team of hospital security guards and police stood discussing the situation, Cameron shook her head in response.

The only other person who had stayed in the room with her had been House, who was seated at the other end by the whiteboard pretending to ignore the proceedings even after he himself had been questioned about noticing anything suspicious which he hadn't, thumping his cane gently on the carpeted floor as he stared into nothing.

He stood up suddenly, and clearing his throat limped to where they stood in the alcove by her desk.

"I'm sure Officer Davis, that if Dr. Cameron remembers anything, that she'll be sure to give you a ring," he asserted looking down at her for confirmation.

"Of course," she agrees with a nod, looking back at House in confusion at his sudden chivalry. Despite wanting to have this morning over and done with, Cameron felt as though she didn't have the strength to will the kindly police officer away.

Glancing at House for a moment, and then at Cameron, Officer Davis pulled out a card from his left pocket and handed it to her, "We'll keep in touch." His eyes met hers in understanding before taking leave through the glass doors of the department to join the group outside.

House moved over to the sink and taking a glass, filled it with water, "Take the day off." He stated quietly in a manner that lead Cameron to believe that despite his word choice, she was being given an option.

"No," she replied firmly, "I'm fine, I-"

House handed her the glass of water and she took it, noticing a slight tremble in her hands she put it down on the table quickly, "I need to work." She said firmly, her eyes meeting his in a silent duel.

He nodded his acceptance of her answer, and not wanting to cause an argument, let the matter drop in favor of picking up the white board markers on the table and beginning the case that had been put on hold.

"We're still on for tonight?" she asked quietly.

"Sure." He turned away from the whiteboard to take note of her expression. "Page Chase and Foreman- we need to get started on this."

12:00  
AISLE 2  
PRINCETON 24 HR GROCERY MART  
42 ALEXANDRIA DRIVE

After delivering such an important message early that morning, Ossel knew he should lay low preferably away from the hospital, deciding to hang out at the store Allison frequented most, albeit out of necessity.

Before having met Allison, he had never come to this particular store. However in recent times he had come to favour it. Wandering the aisles, clutching a basket containing only a few minor items so as not to seem suspicious, his hand wandering over brands which he knew she preferred, Ossel couldn't help but feel a little closer to his neighbor.

Aisle two contained hair products and was by far, the aisle he knew best. For whatever hair type, he could reel off the best products and their instructions of use. 'Came with the territory' he grinned and prided himself on the knowledge that he was one of the best in the wig industry.

When on the hunt, Ossel felt little need to add to his small business of wigs and hair pieces which he sold directly to buyers. It was a humble profession and he enjoyed the ambiguity wigs could provide their owners, a fact that he himself had enjoyed on more than one occasion.

A bottle blonde chose this moment to enter aisle two from the left.

From his position behind a display of Sunlite hair products, Ossel watched as her eyes roamed over the endless possibilities, her hand coming to settle on a chocolaty/ caramel brown selection. After a few moments she settled on a dark brown, tossing the medium sized box into her basket before moving further into the aisle.

Ossel saw red and fingering the sharp knife in his pocket, pulled his mouth into a determined smile.

He had found his next sacrifice.

12:30  
DR WILSON'S OFFICE  
LEVEL FOUR  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL

"So how many of those letters had she received before today?" Wilson asked, tossing the wrapping of his lunch into the waste basket by the door.

"Two," House replied, taking another bite out of his Ruben and noisily slurping out of a can of root beer.

"And she didn't think it was important enough to tell somebody about them?"

"Well… the first few sounded kinda harmless." House shrugged, thinking back to the days he now knew Cameron had received her first hand delivered letters and remembering that she had been a little jumpy those days for which he had chalked up as being due to too many late night horror flicks.

"Now she has some kind of stalker- you sure it's not an ex-patient?"

"No idea who it might be."

They sat contemplating their own thoughts for a while, with only the sounds of Wilson crunching his way through a packet of chips breaking the silence.

"Hey- what did you do with those jazz tickets you scored online?" he asked House abruptly.

"Why- you find a way to get out of the marriage counselling session that Julie's making you go to?"

"She's not making me do anything," Wilson threw his hands up in the air and looked at the ceiling despite knowing that he could never convince House otherwise, he would ask for help from above anyway.

"Whatever."

"You wouldn't happen to be taking the same friend you asked to the monster trucks, would you?" Wilson suggested coyly.

"And if it was?" House stopped chewing and with a glance, dared Wilson to give his opinion.

"Nothing, I'm just happy for you that's all."

"It's not a date." House replied firmly.

"I didn't say it was."

And that was the end of their lunch time discussion as House got up and limped out of the room with not so much as a backward glance at his lunch time buddy, knowing that somewhere in that discussion, he had been had.

18:45  
15 PLAINVIEW ROAD, APARTMENT 2A

Looking down at her choice of wardrobe for that evening, low rider jeans she could never forget his comment and a simple black shirt, Cameron wondered for the third time that afternoon as to the nature of House's invitation.

If it had been anyone else, anyone else she was remotely interested that asked her for a night out after a day she'd rather forget, Cameron would have accepted it without second thought, just glad for the possibility to perhaps have even a minute's rest from her minds eye's continual search through the past weeks.

i Who was O/i

But House wasn't just another person she was interested in, no mater how desperately she wanted to think of this evening as having no strings attached, Cameron knew House never did anything without some ulterior motive, simple or otherwise.

Just as she finished putting on her earrings a knock came at the door, wood against wood, and despite knowing that it would be him at the other side, she couldn't help but feel anxiety rise up in her chest.

Looking through the peep hole she had just installed less than a week ago, she was unnerved at her timing in choosing to install the device.

Her eyes settled upon House, leaning against her doorframe for the third time that month.

Letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, Cameron unlocked the dead bolt and pushed back the latch before pulling the door towards her.

"You ready?" was his only greeting, and grabbing her purse from the side table by the door and the keys that sat beside it, she stepped out to stand next to him, locking the door firmly behind her.

"I see you've been listening to my advice," he quipped glancing very obviously at her ass as they made their way down to the elevator.

"Gotta give cripples a little something in this world," Cameron shrugged, leading the way into the empty elevator.

"Har har."

The drive down was deceptively quiet, the sounds of The Rolling Stones playing quietly against the rain that had begun to patter against the windows of the corvette which Cameron couldn't help but admire before stepping into his car.

"So where are we going?" she asked, pulling on her seatbelt.

"Atlantic City,"

"I got that, I meant where in Atlantic City."

"Oh you know, some jazz dive Wilson and I dug up on one of our drunken rampages. It's not well known – you'll like it." House glanced at her

Cameron sighed at his cryptic response which really didn't answer her question at all settling further into the leather seats.

"While they have the best single malt whiskey this side of the U.S, I can't say too much for their menu, so I thought we'd stop here and get some food first." House said, pulling into a small alcove which boasted several drive thru's in a row.

"IHOP or Pizza Hut?" he asked, turning towards her and smirking at her raised eyebrows.

20:00  
THE BLUE DOG BAR AND GRILL  
ATLANTIC CITY

"I can see why you and Wilson would enjoy this place," Cameron smirked coyly as House led her to the ancient elevator system and the upstairs section of the 'ye olde brewery styled bar and grill he had parked his corvette outside of and unceremoniously informed her that they were late. Despite the tall, busty bar staff and waitresses taking orders dressed as though they were on the set of the next FHM special rather than the 'family fun' its entrance promoted, House didn't bat an eye whilst they waited for the creaky platform to arrive, tapping his cane on the wood block impatiently.

"Oh you know, it keeps the nagging wives at bay if they think their husbands are off to a family joint after a hard day at work rather than Moe's Tavern."

From the noise that was the 'family fun' downstairs, upstairs boasted a more relaxed atmosphere provided by a small, low stage surrounded by bean bags of different sizes, with couples flanking the oversized bags for two and friends huddled together in small groups of normal sized bags,

Cameron then realized why House had been in such a hurry to get there early as most of the single bags had been taken and only two oversized bags were left, the other to be taken with the couple they had ridden up the elevator with. That left her and House to share the last bag.

Before he could ask the attendant if there were any spare single bags available, the lights had begun to dim and the musicians were walking onto the stage.

Cameron plopped down and tugging at his arm, said "I don't mind if you don't mind,"

To this, House found he had no answer and with a smirk lowered himself beside her, "This band's good."

After only a few minuets, a cryptic smile came across Cameron's face and she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "You've been listening through my mp3 player, haven't you?"

House smirked in recognition, "Who? Me?" he feigned before shushing her and pointing towards the stage.

Later that night, after the show and some truly great alcohol and a slight buzz between them, Cameron stood on her doorstep, House behind her. Fiddling with her keys and looking down at her shoes, she thanked him for sharing a great evening with her. In that moment, House threw all cautiousness to the wind. She looked so sweet that all he could do in return was place a small kiss on her cheek and hold, for the tiniest barest of a moment before she responded, by placing her lips upon his for a kiss that was not passionate nor deep, but chaste.

Moving back, his whispered "Goodnight," watching as she entered her apartment with a smile.

"Are you sure you won't come in?"

House shook his head in reply, and what seemed to be a lopsided grin on his face, "Maybe next time."

The night ending in a promise, he moved away from her door step towards the elevator. Cameron watched from her second floor window as he got into his corvette and drove away.

18:00  
MONDAY 8TH MARCH  
15 PLAINVIEW ROAD, APARTMENT 2A

Due to the disaster that was the end of last week, the beginning of the next didn't seem quite so bad at all despite their new patient turning out to be nothing more than a depressed and desperate housewife seeking attention that her husband could never seem to give her.

It had begun as a presentation of some intriguing symptoms yet by mid afternoon House had gotten bored, had figured it out and it took all of Wilson's argumentative powers to keep him from making more than a pissed off phone call to the referring doctor, whom he had called a schmuck, among other things.

Walking out of the elevator and towards her door, Cameron reached into her purse and dug around, looking for her keys. The telephone in her apartment began to ring, fuelling her search. Cameron squatted down and emptied the contents of her purse out onto the wood grain.

"Crap," she whispered to herself at finding nothing but her small make up bag, cell phone and wallet. She had taken the bus to work that day. Glancing at the door and the phone which was ringing incessantly behind it she scooped up the contents of her bag and threw it in before jogging over to the portable fire hydrant in the corner, searching for the spare key she normally kept hidden there.

It was missing.

A shiver ran up her spine.

The phone had stopped ringing and Cameron was left with only the quickening pace of her heart as she fumbled once more into her bag for her phone and found the number for the diagnostic department, hoping that someone was still there.

She glanced back at the apartment door and wondered if her next call should be to the police.

It was after six when the phone oh his desk began to ring and House wondered if he should bother answering it, however his curiosity as to whom might be calling after hours got the better of his inner devils and he reached forward to pick up the handset.

"Hello?"

"House?" Cameron's breathy tones came through the speaker.

"Cameron, can't get enough of the office huh?"

"Thank God your there- did I leave my keys in the break room?"

"One moment I'll go check," Placing the receiver down on his desk, House limped over to the glass door that lead to the break room and looking through it towards the break table and kitchen counter spotted Cameron's key chain which incidentally had a small toy cat dangling from the ring.

Picking up the phone again, House leaned heavily against his cane as his mind recalled her address, "Yeah- I found it. I'll drive it right over." And without giving her a chance to thank him, he put the phone down quickly, ending all conversation between them.

When he arrived at her apartment, he had barely put the corvette into park before Cameron walked out to meet him, glancing around suspiciously she approached the drivers side of his car.

"You really should have a spare key hidden somewhere you know that?" House mocked as he picked up the keys from the passenger seat beside him and handed them to her.

"I did," she answered biting her lip and glancing once more at the empty street as she took his keys, turning away from his car.

House's expression turned grave and he turned off the corvette, "I think I better come up with you."

"House- you don't have to, I've already called Officer Davis," she pleaded despite being grateful at his offer.

"You could offer me some coffee or something for driving all the way out to hand you keys." He muttered as he got out of his car following her into her building.

Plunging the key into her lock, Cameron hoped that she wouldn't find anything more than what had been there this morning when she had left.

"How long did the officer say he'd be?" House asked, leaning against her door frame.

"Twenty minuets from when I called, so about another ten or so," with a final tug, the door sprung open and three flies quickly escaped.

"You forget to put your left overs in the fridge?" House questioned, stepping in behind her and closing the door.

Walking towards the kitchen Cameron's answer "No," could be heard as House looked around her small, neat living room. Despite having visited her apartment on more than three separate occasions, this was the first time he had actually been allowed into her sanctuary and he stood there for a moment, taking it all in.

His eye fell upon an envelope that had been left on her coffee table, identical to that had been left in the break room only a week prior with the same block letters announcing for whom it was written.

"Oh my God!"

Her screech sent needles down his spine and House turned his head to see Cameron back out of a room down the hall, grasping at the wall for support. Limping over as fast as possible to stand beside her, curling one arm around her back House looked into the room to see a body lying haphazardly on the queen sized bed, the word Sacrifice written in blood red above the wooden head board against a background of pale yellow paint.

What was truly disgusting however, was what was hanging from the fan that was situated above the bed.

A full head of hair, half blonde half brown as though a dye job gone wrong had become entangled within the blades of the fan which were still turning, slowly, the metal creaking sickeningly as what held the hair together swung beneath.

A face

Detached from it's body it was a real, human mask. Devoid of shape and flesh it hung limply, blood still dripping from its edges, eyeless, it stared out at whoever chose to enter the room.

Leading Cameron back into the living room, House sat her down on the couch to hear a knock at the door.

"New Jersey Police, open up!"


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Spare Key, pt.3/4  
Author: Ritaann  
Rating: M (( + )), just… things that are not normal, medically and sexually(don't say I didn't warn you)  
Beta: lj userlynettinspaghet  
Characters: House/Cameron, original character (although lighter than previous chapters I think) with some H/W friendship.  
Summary: Ossel makes the ultimate sacrifice… whilst Cameron and House moved towards a crossroads.  
Notes: see part one, however in this section I think my biggest boo boo would be an over use of clichés… so beware those also… I hope its work the wait Sarah …

Part Three

SUNDAY 7TH MARCH  
08:30  
MOSSEL WIGGERY

16 PLAINSVIEW ROAD

Rain pattered against the window pains of his humble abode and suited the cleansing nature of the ritual he was about to perform.

Tied upon his small single mattress of which the bed sheet had been covered with a dark green tarp, the purpose of which only Ossel knew. A strip of gaffer's tape was taped to her mouth allowing only muffled screams to be heard over the sound of the fan whirling above both their heads.

Fear is the only emotion expressed within her blue eyes however in Ossel's eyes it is interpreted as admiration. As he seats himself beside her, he congratulates himself at the easy manner in which he had been able to re-create the situation of his desires.

"Allison," he whispered with a smile, "My name's Ossel. Ossel Olin." He offered his latex glove-covered hand for a shake to the shivering woman on the bed, at which she let out a muffled scream, turning away from his offering.

"That's just my introduction, what do you think?" he asked in an up-beat fashion.

His only reply is that of harsh nasal breaths from his captive as she tries to control her panic whilst desperately wishing she could escape from what she only understood to be a psychopath.

Turning her head, Ossel once again noticed the half finished dye job attempted by his guest and his inviting tones disappear as quickly as they had appeared to be replaced by a particularly gruesome snarl.

With a heart wrenching screech, he stood up off the mattress and began to tear the clothing off his body, neglecting the buttons on his shirt and pants to create a pile of scrap material at his feet.

His victim squirmed and pulled tighter against her ties almost to the point of falling off the mattress, her eyes wide in fright, trying to look at anything but her captor and finding her surroundings to be just as disturbing as the naked, hairless body before her.

For whilst the double chin and Adam's apple would be considered male attributes, as was the skinny, pasty white flat chest that Ossel boasted, puffing up proudly as he peered down at her in disgust, it was not the complete lack of pubic hair that surprised and shocked her most. Rather it was the fact that a penis was nowhere to be found.

"What are you afraid of?"

She had squeezed her eyes shut as he once again sat beside her, naked, turning her head away from his disfigured . His sudden silence, punctuated only by the whirling fan continued for only minutes, yet felt more like hours to her. On the third minute, hoping that all that had happened in the last day had been nothing more than one, nasty dream, she carefully inched her eyelashes open only to see Ossel, balancing himself above her.

With only the whites of his eyes showing and his mouth contorted in what seemed to be an expression of pleasure, Ossel continued his adminstrations of masturbation above a victim that had fainted dead away.

xXx

19:30  
MONDAY 8TH OF MARCH  
15 PLAINVIEW ROAD  
ALLISON CAMERON'S RESIDENCE

"It's been cleared- you can go into any room, except the bedroom of course. We won't be done in there for a while. Do you have somewhere you can stay, for at least the next few nights?" Officer Davis asked as he moved out of the kitchen, past the congregation of police officers and CSI's that had had been milling around her apartment for the past hour or so.

Cameron sat perched on the edge of her couch, staring at the remains of the envelope which had contained the fourth and most recent letter left by, whom she had once thought was just a love sick acquaintance, but who she now came to think of as a murderer.

What was almost stranger than the recent turn of events was the being who had sat on the single seater in the corner of the room the whole time, answering questions when asked, yet generally just observing all that was happening.

It was not the first time in the last hour that Cameron hadn't wondered why he was there, yet she had not had a chance to voice that he really didn't need to stay.

"Of course," House spoke up gruffly coming to stand beside her, "If that's alright with you."

Eyes wide, a warm feeling came over her chest and with a small smile and nod she accepts his offer for which House is glad. After all, she rationalized, Foreman was having his place renovated and was currently sleeping in his bathtub and she wasn't sure what was up with Chase recently.

"If there aren't anymore questions, I'll just grab a few things and we can get going?" she asks hopefully.

"Sure- you still have my card, right? I'll be sure to give you a ring when we're done here or if we turn up anything."

"Actually, officer- I- I have a question." She asks, doing her best to shrug off the hesitation evident through both her voice and posture. His face hardens as he waits for what she is about to say next.

"I know its still early, but could you say if, if that woman was murdered here or-"

There is a silence filled with tension as both pairs of eyes wait for his response and with a sigh and a glance over his shoulder at the room in question, he places a comforting arm on her shoulder.

"We're not 100 sure as to what's happened here, but judging by the amount of blood I'd have to say that its most likely," he pauses for a moment before confirming her worst nightmare, "that she was killed here."

Cameron stands stock still for a moment as she digests this latest piece of information and before he turns away, she thanks him for being honest with her.

Her composure regained she turns towards House.

"I won't be long," and with that she shuffled off to her bathroom to retrieve the few items of use that were not within her bedroom.

center And the week was only just beginning /center

As they walked out of the front door of her building, Cameron already noticed several news trucks and media that had parked on the front lawn. As though instinctively knowing that she didn't want to be photographed, House walked as a barrier between her and the media, using his jacket as a small shield.

"Do you want to bring your car?" he asked as they approached his corvette, "You'd have to park it on the street though.

"No, I've been having problems with it. I've been taking the bus until I find the time to get it fixed."

He then moved forward and sliding his key in the lock, held the door open for a surprised Cameron and waiting until she got in and shutting the door behind her before making his way to the driver's side.

Pulling out of the front of her building, House had made one comment, pointing to the house across the street which had an assortment of mannequins displayed out of its front windows and the sign Mossel Wiggery above the door, all lit up morbidly by the lightning that had begun to flash across the sky.

"Wigs always freaked me out."

center The drive over had been filled with silence. /center

Cameron couldn't help but contemplate House's recent actions. On the tip of her tongue was a thank you that she felt needed to be said, yet knew from past experience that with House, the expressing of such gratitude would only be met with disdain and some snarky quip designed to change the situation into something more manageable and less awkward for himself.

Yet what made her mind twist and turn in confusion were House's recent actions. Taking her out to Atlantic City, the kiss on her porch- and now inviting her to stay at his place whilst hers was unavoidably occupied- where was it all leading?

When he had once turned down her advances, labeling them nothing more than the forays of a misguided school girl, would she now be reading too much into his actions to suggest that he had changed his mind and now wanted something more

xXx

19:35  
MOSSEL WIGGERY

"What the- "

Ossel had been watching through his telescope for the better part of that afternoon and now certainly all evening, taking not of all proceedings, waiting for one of the officers to approach his door and ask if he'd seen anything suspicious during daylight hours. To which he would reply, 'No, officer. When I'm in my work, I'm in my world, my element. I wouldn't have noticed anything if a nuclear explosion had happened right outside my front door.'

Nothing much had been happening until CNN started pulling out the front and Ossel couldn't help but smile at the publicity his work was receiving.

That had been an hour ago and with no new changes he was starting to fall asleep, kept awake only by the flashing lights of the police cars that had closed off the street at either end as the team of CSI's swept the street for any evidence of where the murderer might have fled to.

Ossel knew that with the recent rain, they wouldn't find anything of use.

"This can't be happening."

At that moment, from behind the glare of blue and red flashing lights which had assaulted his retinas for the better part of the hour walked out his obsession and the man whom he had known she called 'House'.

Watching his protective nature around her, Ossel couldn't help but growl in response and seeing the duffel bag in her hand he knew she was going to spend the night, possibly the next few days with him.

"No, no, no!"

How would he be able to watch her? Keep track of her every move if she was not right where she should be, in the apartment across the street?

Tearing his eyes away from the view before him, Ossel moved towards the doorway and grabbing his key off the hook he made a decision then and there.

He'd have to follow them, wherever they were going –

There came a knock at the door.

"New Jersey police, open up"

A frustrated growl is emitted from Ossel's clenched jaw as he places the key back onto the hook, stepping forward to open the door.

xXx

20:15

221B BARKER ST, PRINCETON  
RESIDENCE OF GREGORY HOUSE

"Bathroom's just through there, that's my room and…" House stated, pointing towards the various doorways that lead off the hallway from the living room, "You'll have the spare room."

Cameron walked into the pale green walled room, taking in the couch by the window, flagged by a small table to its left and a heavy oak wardrobe to its right. An old computer sat on a table in the corner by the door.

Noticing the way she was eyeing the couch, House walked towards it and pulled the cushions off it, throwing it them onto the floor with little care as to where they landed, "It turns into a bed if you pull this," to which he then jerked the ancient couch into what appeared to be a comfortable bed.

"I'd let you put your stuff in there but, its preoccupied at present and.." he waved his cane towards the wardrobe.

"That's okay, I don't have much anyways."

She had been mostly silent, knowing that if she opened her mouth for the barest moment her gratitude would spill out in an uncalculated manner.

"Come with me and I'll get you some blankets and things," and without waiting for her response, he limped out of the room and to a closet that was situated between the living room and kitchen.

Whilst he fumbled with the door and selected what she would need, Cameron allowed her eyes to wander over the living room that she had only been privy to viewing for the brief visit she had made to his apartment the night she had decided to quit.

It seemed much the same except for PS2 console, hand controls and stack of games on the coffee table that hadn't been there that night.

"You play often?" she questioned,

House looked over his shoulder to what she was referring to and with a smirk he replied, "When Wilson's around. You play?" before dumping a pile of bedding onto her waiting arms.

"When my brother's over for a weekend, yeah." She walked back into the spare room and began to make the bed before her into something she could sleep in comfortably, House watching from the doorway.

"How old's your brother?" he asked, the possibility of new information fuelling his curiosity.

"Same age as me- he's my twin, actually."

"You have a twin?" House asked, his incredulity translating through his voice.

"I do- he works as an engineer for Porfrex and Co. and comes down to Princeton when he has a project in New Jersey or Atlantic City."

"You ever play Resident Evil II?" he suggested casually.

"I don't just play the game- I _own_ the game." Cameron teased dangerously.

A sparkle gleamed in House's eye as he moved from inside the door way, "You're on." He challenged with a grin.

"No!" the form on the bed let out a muffled scream.

Cameron sat up; her face was covered in cold sweat, plastering her hair to her neck. Eyes open wide as she stared into the darkness and tried to control her breathing.

She couldn't help but feel as though she was still within her dream, that she was still being chased by the man in the shadow. Looking around, she tried to calm herself by remembering what her unfamiliar surrounds had looked like in the light as House had shown her around.

House.

The thought of him calmed her immediately, and listening in the darkness she could hear something coming from the living room.

Assuring herself that there was nothing and nobody under the bed, Cameron padded out into the hallway, drawing her robe around her to ward off the chilly air that was a direct contrast to the warmth of the bed.

As she stood at the edge of the hall way, peering into the dimly lit room, she stared as House turned a couple of pages on the stand and began to play another piece, his hands gliding over the keys as though he had been doing this since birth.

However she did realize that the sound coming from the piano was somewhat muffled and at half the volume she'd expect from the baby grand.

He had put on the soft pedal so as not to disturb her sleep.

Watching him she almost fell asleep where she stood, but waking slightly as he turned a couple more pages she quietly padded back to her bed.

That night she fell gently asleep to the sounds of Chopin and Poulonc, sleeping through till dawn.

xXx

7:15  
10TH MARCH WEDNESDAY  
FIRST FLOOR CLINIC  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL

With the clinic closed for the day, House and Wilson sat behind the admitting desk going over the day's charts. Or rather, Wilson was doing the paperwork whilst House had found a tennis ball kept mainly to pacify patient's offspring and was bouncing it off the wall just beside Wilson's head to his annoyance.

"How long will she need to stay with you?"

"Dunno, I guess until the police are done with her place and after she's had the cleaners over- that bastard did a real number on her bedroom. Not to mention-"

"You actually saw the room?"

House shot daggers at Wilson, "I assure you, its nothing you'd ever want to see."

Wilson was silent for a while, signing a few things he put them aside and turned back to House, "You were going to mention something else that would prevent Cameron from returning home?"

"You still coming over to watch the game tonight? Cameron's promised to cook us dinner." House asked, pretending to not have heard and instead change the subject.

"Don't avoid the question."

"I'm just following your lead."

"Yes I will be over 'round six since Cameron's cooking. Looks like things went well on that date you had last Friday, you've got her wrapped around your little finger already."

"It wasn't a date."

"I'll stop calling it one if you'd answer my question."

"Repeat the question," House asked falling back onto an old trick.

Wilson was having none of it and had filed away the question in advance, "You were going to mention something else that would prevent Cameron from returning home?"

House sighed. "Apparently it looks like the woman was actually killed in her apartment-"

"Oh." Shocked into silence, Wilson reached for another stack of charts to work on.

"Yeah." House bounced the ball once more, this time aiming to clip Wilson's ear and almost succeeding.

"You know that can get really annoying- not to mention hurt someone if your aim is off."

"So I've been told," House quipped right back yet continued to do as previous, perhaps even a few millimeters closer to Wilson's head just to spite him.

"So how did last Friday go?"

"It was good." House tried to fend off the possibility of further questioning with a pithy response.

"That's… good." The oncologist thought for a moment as to the best way to respond.

"Wait a minute- it was good?" he asked, a theory forming in his mind and with the opportunity to prove or deny it he knew he couldn't pass it up.

"So was the monster trucks, what's your point?" House responded, annoyed that Wilson couldn't leave his personal life alone for more than a few days.

"Yeah but with that you groused that she stole your candy floss and asked you too many personal questions, yet with Friday…" he trailed off hoping that House would see the light.

Either he hadn't or he wasn't going to let on that he did, because House's look of disdain mingled with disbelief was still plastered over his features.

"Something happened Friday night didn't it!" Wilson shoved the charts aside and turned his chair to face House front on.

House noticed Cameron approaching the desk from the elevators behind them and catching the ball from one last bounce House levered himself out of the computer chair he had been comfortably seated in, ending the conversation in clipped tones, "One more word and no super bowl or dinner for you tonight."

Wilson gave House his best 'who- me?' look yet still couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

"Hey Wilson," Cameron greeted as she came to stand next to the desk, one hand grasping the shoulder strap which held her laptop, the other deep in the pocket of her leather coat.

Wilson nodded in response.

"You ready yet?" she asked House whom had grabbed his back pack from under the desk and was about to sling it over his shoulder.

"So I'll see you tonight?" he turned towards Wilson for confirmation.

"Yeah," he nodded before glancing at Cameron, "I'll see you guys later."

With that, the two of them left a grinning Wilson to his own devices, and as he watched them leave he couldn't help but note the manner in which House guided Cameron through the entrance way with a hand at the small of her back.

End Part Three

Ossel's medical condition (as requested by SarahK to be rare) was found here; I chose (a funny way to put it huh?) Absent Penis. Boy isn't it great to be a girl! Btw. Statistically, only one person in the whole of Australia would have this problem. One. No more than one. (since we have a population of about 20/21 million) so its rather rare. http/health. - what I find most hilarious is that this article is written by a Dr Greene and I am such a big softy when it comes to old school ER… **sighs** … (another one of my old fandoms, dropped in tandem when I picked up XF … which then dropped when I picked up House … but they all live inside me … somewhere … until a new episode or a re run comes and WAM! I'm in love again …) /lj-cut


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Spare Key pt. 4/4  
Author: Ritaann  
Rating: M  
Beta: Lynettinspaghet  
Characters: House/Cameron, original character, some H/Wil/Cam friendship  
Summary: It all comes to a head as Cameron meets her stalker for the first time. Will Ossel's last few months of preparation pay off, and his first meeting with her go as planed...?  
Notes: see part one

**Part 4**

**From now on, all my fanfiction can be found at whitewriter.  
None of the characters below belong to me, no money is being made, this is a mere piece of fun I wrote about 2/3 yrs ago? I forget ... I'm currently admist fixing up my LJ (re organising) – but here's a link to where most of the House stuff is: whitewriter./tag/fanfiction**

**Feedback much appreciated.**

23:21  
WEDNESDAY, 10TH OF MARCH  
HOUSE'S APARTMENT

"Pay up buddy," House groused extending his hand out to Wilson who sat on the couch beside him.

The credits for the super bowl were rushing across the split screen, the other half was a promotion of the latest Alias episode with actress Lena Olin the feature of the commercial. Cameron got up from her place on the lazy boy in the corner, stretching like a cat, arms above her head. House couldn't help but stare at the bare patch of skin that had been exposed when her top had ridden up, watching as she began to clear up the coffee table littered with beer bottles.

As she moved into the kitchen, House snapped out of his trance, Wilson slapping a twenty dollar bill into House's hand. "I can't believe you're passing that up." Wilson shook his head in disbelief.

"I think visiting hours are over." House growled, levering himself off the couch and picking up a few of the bottles himself. Whilst he would normally just leave them there until the next morning, or even sometimes until the coming week, having Cameron clean up made him feel a tiny bit guilty.

Wilson also got up, and grabbing his coat off the back of the couch walked into the kitchen to find Cameron stacking the plates from their meal.

"Thanks for dinner Cameron- it was delicious." Wilson commented, taking note of the apron she had recently adorned and couldn't help but wonder if it belonged to her or House.

"Are you leaving?" she asked him, putting down the dish she had been scrubbing at.

"Yeah – it's getting late, I better get going. I'll see you around."

"See you tomorrow," she called out as House opened the front door.

With a smile and wave, Wilson left, although not before whispering, "I sincerely hope that you don't screw this up, buddy," into House's ear to which he rolled his eyes and shut the door in his face.

Moving towards the kitchen where Cameron had begun to scrub at the plates, House grabbed a dish towel and began to dry the plates that she had already washed and were on the rack drying.

"Dinner was good." House began hesitantly.

"I'm glad you liked it."

The sound of water splashing sloppily against plates and metal cutlery being cleaned permeated the air space between them for the next few minuets before Cameron put down the soap filled sponge she had been using, and brushed some hair out of her eyes.

"I know you don't do well with thank you's, but I do want to-" she could hear herself begin to babble and taking a breath she tried again. "I want to thank you for letting me stay at your place."

House stared into her doe grey eyes and felt somewhere in his being crack at the hope he saw there. Rather than what he wanted to say, something that would let her know that he had actually enjoyed her being there he'd have to kill anyone who ever found out the truth he opened his mouth to reply,

"You're welcome." At her small smile he couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased that she hadn't jumped all over him like he thought she would have the moment she stepped into his doorway a bare two days ago.

"But I have to know-" at these words House could feel the boulder that had begun to dissipate in the pit of his stomach reappear and the thought that he'd be eating his last thoughts was none too distant.

"Why, after all you've said- why are you doing this?"

"I didn't know I was doing anything," House said, feigning innocence sarcastically through a wave of his cane.

"Offering me a place to stay? Taking me out to Atlantic City? And on my doorstep…" Cameron shut her mouth, knowing that she had said too much already.

"Oh please, don't put me on a pedestal." he fell back on an old line of his, and turning away from her began to stack the plates he had just dried into the cabinet where they belonged.

"Was that a mistake?"

House knew what she was referring to but he asked anyway, his back still turned, "What was?"

"The kiss- was that a mistake?" she asked again, firmly.

"I don't make mistakes." He muttered to himself before turning around to face her and instead voiced out loud. "That was…" he trailed off into silence, leaving the question unanswered he found that he couldn't look directly at her and settled for staring at the digital clock behind her instead.

"Right. That's all that I need to know. I think I'll go to bed now." Taking off her apron she hung it on a hook behind the kitchen door before making her way towards the spare room.

xXx

**23:00  
BARKER STREET, PRINCETON**

It had taken more than a day's careful surveillance, but Ossel had finally found where Cameron was staying.

Those damn Princeton police had taken up the better part of an hour questioning him the night that Allison had fled her apartment and by then he had no choice but to go to bed and wait until he had a chance to follow her home from the one place he knew would remain a constant no matter where she slept.

Her place of work at the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

Putting down his binoculars and ducking his head as the guest that had come over from the evening left through the front door that had been held by House himself, Ossel watched as Wilson got into the silver grey Mercedes that was parked in front of his non-descript black sedan and drove away.

Once he was sure that the coast was clear, Ossel got out of his car and in the dark walked towards the fire escape that was on the side of the building. Reaching up he found the retractable stairs and gave a tug.

It wouldn't budge.

A car passed him on the street and he turned and pretended to be walking in the opposite direction for a few moments whilst it passed before running back and staring once more at the steel stair case before him that passed by what he hoped was her bedroom window, that perhaps he would have a chance to watch her as she slept that night.

Reaching up, this time with two arms, Ossel tugged harder at the ladder to cause a large screeching sound and major clanking as the barely used, and certainly never oiled ladder was pulled into place.

Standing still for a moment, Ossel tuned his every being into listening out for anyone who might have thought the ruckus he had created was suspicious.

He heard nothing.

Clambering up the ladder, he leaned against the ledge that passed by the window in question and peered through the curtains at the room that was within, a slow grin forming as he watched her enter through the doorway.

xXx

**23:30  
THE SPARE ROOM  
221B BARKER STREET**

Walking into her room, Cameron shut the door firmly behind her, and wished that she had never accepted House's proposition of a Friday night out in Atlantic City.

First, sitting on the bed, arms crossed, Cameron found that she needed to think out what she was going to do next. Pent up energy left over from a fight that never really began, she stood and began to pace the small room from window to door.

It was then that a sudden feeling of being watched came over her.

It was a feeling that she hadn't noticed until recently, her senses heightened with recent events. In past weeks, the thought of some stranger watching her, lusting after her body in their single-sided belief that they belonged together, made her feel dirty and unclean.

Looking towards the open window, Cameron noticed that with the light on that anything that was happening inside could be seen by whichever peeping Tom had decided to poke his head in. Standing up, she reached for the blinds and pulled them down to cover the entire window frame, shutting out the outside world completely.

For the first time in the last decade, Allison felt as though she was truly alone in this world.

**00:37**

House awoke in the dark, to find the sheets twisted around his legs, and the sound of the clock ticking in the hall. Turning over onto his good side, He thought back to the previous evening's events, a quarter of which had been spent deflecting Wilson's questions as to Cameron's situation through a clever, although unreadable concoction of facial expressions.

Despite her smile of innocence, House knew that Cameron wasn't quite as innocent about American football as she might have made out to be. The small grin and shake of her head as Wilson confidently made his bet and her coy reply of 'I don't make bets' at his invitation was all he needed to add another piece to the puzzle that was his latest houseguest.

If only she hadn't brought up events of the week past, he could declare it a perfect night. Only she had, to which House found whilst he prided himself on knowing a great deal about a lot of things, the rational for things past he did not have within the tangle of wires often referred to as his brain.

Having tried his best to go back to sleep and failing miserably, House found that the tick tock-ing had dug a hole deep in his mind and there was only one way to dissipate it. That would be to grab the stinking piece of machinery off the wall and throw it into eternity if he wanted to get another moment of peace that night.

Making his way out of the bed, House fumbled in the dark for his cane before making his way towards the living room.

As he passed by the door that lead to Cameron's room, House couldn't help but hear what sounded like muffled screams.

"Cameron," he whispered loudly, knocking on her door.

The sounds within only seemed to amplify in urgency and turning the handle, House opened the door a crack to peer in at the form that was sleeping on the bed.

Her arms were flailing in the air, her legs seemed to be moving as though she was running House limped over as fast as he could and sat down on the bed beside her.

"Cameron- it's me, House- Greg House; wake up, you're having a nightmare." He held down her arms and spoke once more, this time almost yelling in her ear.

"Cameron!"

Eyes wide with surprise at being shocked out of sleep, Cameron sat up in her bed and wiped away stray tears that had fallen from her lids whilst she dreamt.

"House?" she asked, looking around the room and then back to him in confusion.

"You had a bad dream- I could hear you screaming."

"Oh." Recognition clouded her eyes and a haunted look came over her features, providing House with a valuable clue as to what had passed through her minds eye only moments before.

"Do you remember what it was about?" he asked anyway, hoping that perhaps talking about it would prevent further nightmares from occurring.

"Not like you'd care to know." She threw in his direction as she got up out of bed to rummage around in her bag.

"Thanks for waking me up." and with that, Cameron walked towards the bathroom across the hall, closing the door firmly behind her.

Despite previously blaming the clock for his midnight wakeup call, House knew that the true cause of his unrest was rather, the being that had been sleeping down his hallway.

He may have not had the answer to her question that evening, but he was determined to not move from her bed until things between them were cleared.

xXx

**00:37  
BARKER STREET, PRINCETON**

Sighing, Ossel gave up the possibility of seeing Allison once more that night through his peeping ledge into her bedroom. He had been staring up at the window for the past three hours, waiting for the blinds to be pulled up to no avail.

The only information he had managed to garner was that someone had turned off the light around fifteen minuets to midnight.

Turning the key in the ignition, Ossel Olin began the fifteen minute trek home through the dark and empty streets of residential Princeton.

xXx

**00:42**

What are you still doing here?" Cameron asked, entering her room from the hallway. Having left ten minutes prior she had hoped that House had given up and gone back to sleep by now.

House sighs, standing from where he had sat waiting for her on the bed and choosing instead the chair by the computer table.

"I don't know about you, but I can't sleep right when someone within close proximity is angry."

"I'm not angry with you," she crosses her arms defensively around her flimsy night dress, the soft satiny material which reached down to her calves almost see through in the lamp light.

"Right. You left the kitchen in a huff because a little purple dragon had gotten into your bed and you needed to chase it out before it made friends with your pillow."

Cameron stared down at House in confusion, shaking her head to rid her mind the last of the cobwebs of sleep as she sits down on the space on the bed House had vacated, leaving only his warmth on the sheets. "I'm going to ignore what you just said."

"It is the witching hour- you can't expect me to be all that clear." He snarks back, glancing pointedly at the clock on the table beside the bed.

"So." Cameron states, waiting for him to continue with what he had waited in her room for.

"So…" he pauses, gathering what he hopes to be the right words.

She stares right back at him, after all the confusion he has put her through, at first pushing her away only to wait a month to begin pulling her back towards him, she feels she can't give him any more excuses to hide behind.

"I don't make mistakes." He begins simply. She waits for him to continue, "and… I like having you around."

Cameron waits for more of an explanation to spill forth, but as she sags deeper into her bed she chastises herself from expecting more from what is essentially, an emotional wall.

"It's late, House, and we have work tomorrow," she reminded him wearily, beginning to crawl under the sheets and wonder if she feigned sleep, would he go away.

Yet with his recent words, she also doubted that any decent sleep would come her way.

He continued forth with his soliloquy, as though she hadn't just spoken, struggling against once more beginning a sentence with a pronoun as personal as I.

"Before, when you asked me…" House itched to bounce his cane on the rug in front of him, yet resisted the urge.

"If you liked me," she finished for him, sitting up straighter. She was no longer sleepy.

"Right. That." He nodded complacently, the nice albeit small part of his brain was screaming at his mouth to just come out with, yet was losing the battle with the larger, insecure bastard section of his psyche

"That answer was, of course tied directly with my words on our little work 'date', if you want to call it that, and those words… still stand."

Confusion crept once more into Cameron's expression, causing lines to appear on her forehead as she raised her eyebrows in response to his words.

"What I'm trying to say, is, that… I don't know where this-" He swallows nervously, hoping that at least the sentiment of his words was coming through, "_thing_ between us is going, but I'm willing to see where it might take us."

At these words, a small smile crept across Cameron's face, "Took you long enough," she teased, giving him a small punch on the arm.

That night, although in separate beds, two human beings at 221B Barker Street, Princeton slept soundly till morning. For while their future was uncertain, a common goal had united them, and that was all that was needed, for the moment.

xXx

**07:31  
MONDAY, 22ND MARCH  
MOSSEL WIGGERY  
16 PLAINSVIEW ROAD, PRINCETON**

Today was the day, Ossel whispered to himself, rubbing his hands in delight as he stared into his telescope, the sun rising over Allison's apartment block. A latte and Danish occasional treats from her favorite stop on her way over to work sat beside him on a plastic chair which served as a side table.

**16:31**

Stretching like a cat, Ossel began to scratch at his neck, antsy as to when she might show up he had not moved from where he had stood for the past nine hours. The coffee cup had been squashed into a flattened circle in his release of pent up energy, waiting for the right moment.

Today was the day, he was sure of it.

xXx

**17:21  
MONDAY 22ND MARCH  
FIRST FLOOR CLINIC  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL**

"So it's been a fortnight." Wilson began, once an advertisement break came on, breaking his fixation with the game that had been playing on the handheld television House had set up on the gurney opposite which they sat.

"What's your point?" whilst methods of deflection were upon his tongue, House had learned in recent years that on occasion it was better to just get things out in the open.

"Well… you don't plan on having Cameron stay forever do you?"

"Oh so it's _Cameron_ you're talking about?" House still couldn't let go completely of the opportunity to slip in one snarky comment.

Wilson rolled his eyes at his older friend's antics, waiting patiently for a response to his previous question.

"The cleaners have been having trouble removing all the blood, so she has to get her walls repainted, and not to mention move all her things to storage until she finds another apartment. Even I wouldn't sleep there, ya know with all the beasties and ghosties that might be hanging around."

Wilson couldn't help but smile at House's seemingly plausible explanation and wondered how much of it was actually true.

"Right, not to mention it's a Monday and your not even scheduled to be in the clinic – It's past five, what are you of all people doing down here?"

"Cameron and Foreman are swamped by paperwork and you know how I hate that stuff. Besides, I promised Cameron a ride home,"

"Huh. That just further proves my point," Wilson said with a smug grin on his face. House turned towards him, waiting for Wilson to continue and wishing he'd just state his grand discovery and get it over with. "You can't be around that much niceness and not get any on you."

"Shh! The game's starting," House pointed out irritably, turning up the volume and ending all conversation.

xXx

**17:21**

Ossel was fed up with waiting. A growl rising from low in his throat, he looked once more through the telescope before turning away in frustration to pace the length of the room, pictures of her assaulting his line of sight at each turn.

"No, no, it has to be today. It's her birthday!"

Ossel never had a chance to forget his sister's birthday. Being the only girl, she always received the attention her cute bangs and charming smile deserved while Ossel, whose birthday always seemed to fall on a school day was barely recognized. On the one year his birthday was on a weekend, his sister was moving to America. She had received what could possibly be her big break and for the whole of that week, it seemed the whole family was milling around the house, wanting to celebrate her good fortune.

No one ever wanted to celebrate Ossel.

"Today," he promised himself out loud, "Today I will celebrate her birthday, in the way I want to."

Lifting up the hand set of the phone that hung on the wall, almost completely covered by more shots of Allison, these ones containing close ups at her face. In spite of the distance they were taken from, Ossel's fantastic camera made it seem as though it was only inches away from the subject.

"Diagnostic Department, please," he said clearly and calmly, his voice lowered an octave, and a barely contained grin on his face.

xXx

**17:31  
DIAGNOSTIC DEPARTMENT,  
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL**

Despite it being a Monday evening, and not a patient in sight in the diagnostic department, Cameron and Foreman are working diligently in their office.

House's avoidance of paperwork for the past year had made turning in yearly reports on the department's status a monumental task which was, of course delegated to his fellows. Whilst Cameron was traditionally the one who completed such tasks, Foreman had kindly volunteered to help out, whilst Chase claiming he had some seminar or another on god knows what to attend, was certainly nowhere near the hospital that evening.

"So what's it been like, staying at House's?" Foreman questions curiously, organizing the mountain that was before them into neat piles.

"Oh you know…" Cameron began, as though the answer should be common knowledge.

"Yeeeeahhhh…?" Foreman drawled, shaking his head slowly, eye brows raised for her to continue. She smirked at his response.

"No different. Sometimes we battle on the PS2." She offered, hoping to stem all questions on the quiet time they sometimes spent together.

At first she had kept mostly to her room, grateful that he had even invited her into his sanctuary and hoping not to disturb him much by her being there. She didn't want him to regret his decision to be nice for once. Yet it soon became blazingly obvious that he really didn't mind her company, often calling her out into the living room to read some interesting article he had just found, or to battle on a new game Wilson had gotten him. By the third day, Cameron gave up the notion of staying in her room if she was to get a moment's peace and for this she was secretly pleased. There were only so many things that she could do for entertainment whilst cooped up.

"You play Playstation?" Foreman asked, smirking at this new piece of information.

"Why does that come as a shock to everyone?" The phone had started ringing and rolling her eyes at Foreman's stereotyping, she went to pick it up.

Foreman tried to appear as though he was not listening to her conversation, but at her words, "I'll be there in twenty or so." He couldn't help but perk up at the thought of going home without feeling guilty.

She looked up apologetically as she put the phone down, "You wouldn't mind leaving this until tomorrow, would you?"

"Oh God no," Foreman chuckled, capping his pen, "It certainly won't be going anywhere."

Grabbing their jackets off the coat stand, they bid each other a good night before leaving in opposite directions, Foreman towards that of the parking garage and Cameron in search of House for a ride.

xXx

**18:00  
16 PLAINVIEW ROAD, PRINCETON**

Cameron looked up at the windows of her apartment and gathering her bag moved to get out of the car.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come up?" House offered, turning off the ignition and turning towards her worriedly.

"House, it's just some feud between the cleaners over which detergent to use or something. It'll take five, ten minutes tops." She gave him an assuring smile before pushing the door open and climbing out of his car.

He nodded in agreement and pressing a few buttons on the stereo system that his corvette provided, he settled in for a short wait.

However even the soothing sounds of the Rolling Stones could not quell his discontentment that something was different about this particular call.

For one thing, the cleaners weren't scheduled to work this Monday if he had heard Cameron correctly the morning before, not to mention why they would be there so late in the evening.

House pondered these facts for a moment before turning off the stereo, deciding that something just didn't feel right, and he would make sure that his hunch was just what it was, a hunch.

Pushing her key into the lock, Cameron took note of the complete lack of noise coming from her apartment.

"Hello?" she called out as she stepped through the doorway, and out of habit locked the front door behind her.

At the lack of response, she took a few steps towards the kitchen and peered in before making her way to the bedroom, trying to quell her pounding heart at having to go in there for the first time since… Cameron suddenly realized that it was two weeks exactly, to the evening she had found the girl in her bed room.

Her bedroom door was closed, bits of the yellow 'do not cross tape' put there by the police still attached to the door.

"Hello?" she called out once more, wishing that she had taken House on his offer to come up with her.

She listened intently for a response, and when not one came she turned the handle and pushed the door open, her mind spinning with what state she might find the room. Despite knowing that the body and indeed, the face hanging from her fan would have been taken down to the county morgue and that the cleaners have had at least one session in her room, Cameron couldn't help but take a deep breathe before entering and remind herself of these facts.

The room had definitely taken a step towards what it had once been. The walls were tinged a pinkish red from where the blood had been and her bed sheets and curtains had been removed, disposed of as she had instructed the cleaners.

It was empty.

Taking another step into the room, Cameron noted that unlike everything else in the room, her dressing table and the items upon it had been untouched. Picking up her favorite bottle of perfume to take back with her, she suddenly realized that she was not alone.

"Hello, Allison."

Turning Cameron came to face the being that was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. His voice was sickeningly familiar, and taking in his bald head and tailored suit, she knew that he was not one of the cleaners.

"Who are you?" she asked, willing her hands not to tremble as she put the bottle back down on the dresser.

"My sister hated it when anyone touched her dressing table," he moved towards where she stood, Cameron backing towards the bed, her eyes darting towards the door as she inched towards it. Taking the bottle she had just placed down at the edge of the dresser, he moved it to its correct position, to the left of the dresser where she kept a neat little box filled with bottled scents.

Turning back towards her, he placed a gentle smile on his face and offered her his hand for a shake to find that she was no longer in the room.

Cameron had slipped out the door and found her way into her kitchen, taking out the phone in her purse, and began punching at the key pad only to realize that her batteries were dead, "Shit," she whispered to herself, one eye trained on the hallway that lead to her bedroom.

"Allison, where did you run off to?" the stranger's voice came through the walls and she knew she didn't have time to find her cordless in the living room. Opening her knife drawer, she took out the largest knife she could find.

Turning around, he had, like a snake, walked into her kitchen without having made a sound. She stuck the knife out in front of her, keeping her arm straight and true, not wanting to seem in any way, disadvantaged by her position.

Her kitchen table between them, Cameron glanced at the small space between them and the only doorway which was currently being occupied by him.

"Excuse my manners, but I'm your neighbor, Ossel Olin." He said with exaggerated patience.

Cameron struggled to remember where she may have seen or met him before, and was coming up blank no matter how familiar he seemed.

"I believe we've shared correspondence by letter over the past month?"

With those words, Cameron felt as though a piece of ice had been rubbed down her spine by an invisible entity as a chill fell over the room.

"What is it you want from me?" she rasped out, the panic evident in her voice.

"Lena, don't you get it?" he asked calmly, walking towards her.

Cameron shook her head in confusion and edged her way around the table, keeping an eye on both the doorway and making sure she was directly opposite from her stalker.

"You're the one that killed that woman didn't you?"

Ossel's facial expression changed that moment from one of contentment to that of anger.

Cameron eyed the doorway that was so near, and yet so far, too close to that of Ossel that she would not be able to make a clean getaway without major risk.

"That was no woman!"

Her eyes darted towards the door way once more

"She was an impostor, a fake," he snarled.

Cameron swallowed, watching as Ossel's face turned progressively from a pasty white to pink to a deep red tone. His hands moved forward and gripped the table between them.

At that moment a knock, wood on wood came at the door startling both Cameron and Ossel. She sighed in relief as she heard House calling out her name, but with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, then realized that she had locked the door and that he had no means of getting in.

"House! Help!" she called out, her eyes darting between that of Ossel and the door way which was still half blocked by him, the sound of House having a good go at breaking her door could be heard in the background.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Ossel snarled, "This was not how I planned it!" he screamed, grabbing her heavy oak table and as though it was mere cardboard, and turning it over.

Without the table serving as a barrier between them, Cameron felt exposed, waving the knife she held desperately towards his form.

"I will hurt you!" she rasped out, fear taking over her being and not allowing her to put full force into her words as she realized how much bigger and stronger than she he was.

Ossel laughed in her face, "Lena, this is just like old times," he pulled out the broom that had been next to her fridge and holding it out in front of him, Ossel took one swipe and making contact with the knife that she held, hit it so hard that it fell from her grasp and onto the tiled floor between them.

He grinned, watching as Allison made a last attempt dash towards the kitchen door he side stepped and blocked it with the broom. She could still hear House furiously banging at her door, and she sent up a quick prayer that he would somehow succeed before it was too late.

Retreating to the corner, Cameron grabbed the first thing off the counter she could find, a wooden chopping block.

"Getting desperate are we?"

She glanced down at the bench for anything else of use and for once, she damned her cleanliness with having everything put away neatly in the cabinets above her head. With Ossel advancing towards her she didn't have time to go searching.

Bending down quickly he picked the knife up off the floor and that was when Cameron dropped the heavy wood block down on his head as hard as she could and made a wild dash for the living room.

She had almost made it through the door way when Ossel grabbed at her leg, tripping her over.

Cameron clawed at the floor beneath her and struggled to get up to no avail as he had a strong grasp on her ankle, "Let me go!" she screamed, as she felt a knife begin to slice half way down her calf, "Owww…"

"You and I Allison," she heard him breathing heavily behind her, "We're meant to be together,"

With a final bang and the sound of wood splitting from its hinges, Cameron looked up to see House speed limp into her living room,

"Get off of her!" he yelled, jabbing Ossel in the neck with his cane. Hard.

As Ossel retreated back into the kitchen, Cameron got up off the floor in time to greet the team of police who had just arrived at the door, Officer Davis moving past both Cameron and House towards the kitchen with the instructions,

"Arrest him!" directed at Ossel.  
House stood behind Cameron, resisting his urge to bash Ossel into the next century with his cane abated as he could feel her tremble despite the strength with which she held herself.

Ossel's last words to her as he was being frog marched out her front door, his arms struggling despite the cuffs which held them together were breathily and said with a ghost of a smile, "You'll see Allison, we're meant to be together- This isn't over yet!"

Alone in the living room, two police men in the kitchen to document the damage, a quiet reference to taking statements once she had a chance to calm down, House stood holding a sobbing Cameron, glad that the whole ordeal was at least for now, over.

Looking down at the floor, House noticed a small pool of blood forming near her feet "Did he cut you?" easing out of her embrace he bent down slowly, pulling up her pant leg to see the damage he gasped and quickly pressed the material to her leg to stop the bleeding.

It would leave another scar she would have to bear.

Epilogue

**23:00  
21 DINGO CRES. PRINCETON  
RESIDENCE OF ERIC FOREMAN**

Checking for stray drops of paint, Foreman sat down on the floor beside his television and turned on the late news.

_"Mathew Reilly, escapee of Princeton Plainsboro Psychiatric facility where he was being held for treatment of severe schizophrenia was captured just a few hours ago in the apartment of his neighbor who he had been stalking at the time and is incidentally a doctor who works at PPTH. It is also believed that Reilly also murdered Elizabeth Bennett whom had been found dead in the same apartment two weeks ago to his capture. He is being held without bail and is due to appear in court next month."_

End of Spare Key


End file.
